


Through his Glasses Darkly

by provencepuss



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provencepuss/pseuds/provencepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Starsky visits Duluth for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through his Glasses Darkly

THROUGH HIS GLASSES DARKLY

  
There were times when Captain Harold Dobey wondered why he didn’t take advantage of the thirty odd years that he’d worked for his pension and retire. This was one of them.  
He looked at the two young men sitting in the seats opposite him. Hutch was still as weak as a kitten after taking a bullet in the neck. Starsky was showing signs of fatigue and his psychological state was anybody’s guess.  
Hutch still had a dressing on the wound; his voice was a little hoarse and there was a big doubt about how long it would be before he was really fit again for active service. The hospital said about a month and Hutch said “I’m ready now.”  
Starsky was constantly rubbing his eyes and squinting. He was fiddling with a pair of dark-tinted Ray-Bans.  
He’d been arguing with them for a half hour and he did not think he was getting anywhere fast.  
“I’m putting you both on sick leave.”  
That was greeted with Hutch’s angry reply “No way Captain!”  
Dobey looked to see Starsky’s reaction – but he seemed miles away; his eyes slightly out of focus and his face pale. He turned to Hutch “Ok, but keep an eye on him.” He gestured in Starsky’s direction with his head. “It seems to me that his psychological wounds are still bleeding.”  
Hutch looked at his partner and then back at Dobey. “Yes. I have a feeling I’m healing quicker than he is.” He patted Starsky’s arm “Hey buddy; are you with us here? Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee at Huggy’s.”

Starsky seemed to come back from far away. He rubbed his eyes and blinked at Hutch almost as if he wasn’t sure who it was speaking to him. Hutch recognized the danger signs; he stood up and held out a hand to his partner, “looks like you need a little help here.”  
Starsky stood up. Dobey thought he saw him sway slightly. Starsky blinked and put a hand to his eyes again. “Oh holy shit…Hutch …I think I’m gonna….”  
Hutch came to support him and the two men left the room in a hurry. Dobey heard the distinct sound of retching in the hallway and went out in time to see Hutch hurrying his partner into the men’s room. He followed and saw to his horror that Starsky was doubled over the toilet bowl vomiting while Hutch held his shoulders. “It’s ok buddy, I’m right here.”  
Starsky groaned “Feels like my brain’s coming outta my nose. And my eyes feel like they’re gonna explode any minute…….” He leaned forward to vomit again.  
“Hey; come on, there’s nothing left in there. Let’s get you out of here.”  
Hutch gently helped Starsky to his feet and with his partner leaning heavily against him he came out of the cubicle and sat on the floor leaning against the wall. Starsky had his eyes closed and his head slumped against Hutch’s shoulder. Hutch was gently massaging his shoulders; he looked up at Dobey and said “Bring me a cup of water please, Captain.”  
Dobey went over to the fountain and came back with a goblet of water. Hutch held it to Starsky’s mouth. “Rinse your mouth out first.” Starsky took a mouthful and spat it out.  
“Now take little sips. That’s it…you’ll be ok in a sec. “  
Starsky did as he was told but he was still groaning and he kept his eyes closed. Hutch reached into his partner’s pocket and pulled out the Ray-Bans with the almost black lenses that Starsky favored; he slipped them onto his friend’s face.  
“OK, now we’re going to find somewhere a little more comfortable.” He helped Starsky to his feet again and led him back to the squad room. Starsky slumped onto his chair and took off the shades; he put his head down on the table cradled in his arms.

“Suppose you explain this, Hutchinson?” Dobey said softly. The other cops in the room were looking with concern at their stricken colleague.   
Starsky’s muffled voice came from somewhere between his elbows. “It’s a Migraine, Cap’n; I haven’t had one like this for a long time.”

Hutch stood behind him. “Do you think you can make it to the car yet?”  
“Let’s try.” He tried to stand but swayed again and Hutch put his arms around his shoulders. “Lean on me…come on…gently. You can make it.”  
Starsky let himself be guided out of the room and down to Hutch’s car.  
Hutch helped him into the passenger seat and drove off carefully.

  
***************************************************************

Dobey’s office had been going in and out of focus for the past ten minutes. Everything had a horribly familiar hazy halo.  
He walked in the general direction of the door and hoped that Hutch really was standing where he seemed to be.

He could feel the contents of his stomach making their way up his esophagus and into his mouth.

He made a big effort and lifted his left foot off the ground; when he was pretty sure that it was back on the ground he concentrated on taking the next step. His whole brain was trying to focus through the red noisy cloud that was closing in on him. He had to get out of this room and into the toilets.  
The room began to spin and he felt himself falling…falling…into a chasm filled with pain.

Someone caught him in time. Through the echoing cloud he thought he heard a voice swearing…and he recognized it as his own.

Someone was steering him along; he wasn’t sure who or where they were going. He could feel the vomit rising; burning the back of his throat and nose. He couldn’t hold it back any more. He let himself go; leaning forward and throwing up. His brain turned into molten pain behind his eyes. The acidity of his sickness and the pain in his head brought tears to his eyes.

Somewhere in the fog a voice was saying gently “I’m here…it’s OK…” It sounded like Hutch. “Hutch?” He couldn’t tell if the words came out or not. He felt like he was pitching head first into a void.

He felt the paper cup against his lips. “Rinse your mouth out.” He let the cool water swill around his teeth and spat.   
“Take little sips.”   
His mother used to give him barley water when he was sick like this. “Barley water first; chicken soup later.” But the voice wasn’t his mom’s; it was Hutch.

He sipped from the paper cup – it wasn’t barley water but it felt good. He swallowed and the water washed the acid burn back down to his stomach. Another sip and his stomach burned a little less.

He felt Hutch lift him to his feet and he glided alongside his partner; floating in his red cloud of pain.  
The air outside hit him in the face. His sight and his hearing were dimmed by the pain and the sound and light show going on behind his eyes; but his sense of smell seemed to have increased and the acrid fumes of LA smog hit him. He felt his stomach lurch again and swallowed hard.

Hutch was lowering him into the car. _Oh God, please don’t let me throw up again!_

  
******************************************************************

  
As far as Starsky could tell someone was holding a Fourth of July fireworks display somewhere behind his left eyeball; as for what was going on behind the other eye…he preferred not to think about it! He knew that Hutch was doing his best to drive carefully but every bump and turn made his gut lurch. His head was pounding and there was a high-pitched buzzing in his ears. He felt the bile rising and began to taste it in his mouth.  
“Hutch, stop the car.” He hoped his voice was audible – he couldn’t hear it.  
Hutch looked at Starsky out of the corner of his eye; his friend had his hand to his mouth and his face was going a pallid greenish-gray. Hutch checked his mirrors and pulled over. Starsky hardly waited for the car to come to a halt; he opened the door and started to lean out…that was as far as he got. Hutch came round to his side and stood while Starsky heaved and spat. “It’s dry heaves Dave; if you go on like that you’ll hurt yourself.”  
Starsky looked up at him; squinting against the sun (he’d taken his shades off when he started vomiting) “Thanks for stopping in time.”   
Hutch folded him back into the car and drove on. He pulled up outside Starsky’s apartment and went round to help his partner out of the car. Slowly he guided Starsky up the stairs and propped him against the wall while he found the key and opened the door. Starsky leaned more and more heavily on Hutch as they made their way to the bedroom.  
Starsky sat on the bed and allowed Hutch to remove his jacket and holster.  
“Lie down; I’ll get you a cold towel for your head.”  
Starsky lay down on his back but the world started spinning and he turned onto his side and curled up like a child. Hutch sat down beside him and gently wiped his face then held a cold wet wash-cloth against Starsky’s eyes.  
“What do we do now, Starsk?”  
Starsky mumbled something about pills in his bathroom cabinet and Hutch went to see what there was. He found a single bottle of prescription pills and read the label; if he remembered right these were heavy duty pain killers. He ran some water into the tooth glass and took the bottle into Starsky’s bedroom.   
“How many of these do you take?”  
“When it’s as bad as this I take two.” He took the pills that Hutch held out to him and swallowed them down with a gulp of water. He summoned up a smile and said “And now we wait to see if they come back up again.” He lay down again.  
Hutch sat by the bed and waited. He didn’t have to wait long, Starsky started retching again and somehow Hutch got him into the bathroom in time. When the vomiting had stopped Hutch could clearly see the two white pills in sink. He led Starsky back to the bed and helped him lie down.  
Starsky started to shiver. Hutch sat him up and started to undress him; Starsky giggled softly and said “Be gentle.” Hutch laughed too. Together they managed to remove his shirt and as soon as they had Starsky lay down and Hutch dealt with his sneakers, socks and jeans and pulled the covers over him. Starsky lay curled on his side moaning in pain.  
“Hutch?”  
“I’m right here.”  
“I need a doctor; if I can’t hold those things down…”  
Hutch went over to the ‘phone in the kitchen and deciphered the list of numbers written in Starsky’s left-handed scrawl. He saw the name of a doctor and called the number. The receptionist sounded friendly and as soon as Hutch told her the patient’s name she stopped him. “Keep him warm and keep the room dark; the doctor will be there in about a half hour.”  
Hutch hung up and marveled that it was so easy for Starsky to get a house call. He took a beer out of the fridge and went back to sit by his friend. Starsky was half-asleep but his face was pinched in pain. “Doctor’s on the way, buddy. Hey how come you get house calls that easy?”  
“I can’t move when I’m like this…anyway, wait until you see the doctor!”

  
****************************************************************

He felt the car start off – every turn, every acceleration every slowing down seemed fifty times more intense than normal. He lost the battle with his guts. He concentrated hard and hoped that he asked Hutch to pull over. He felt the car stop. He groped for the door handle and pushed hard; he felt himself keeling forward as the vomit came up again.  
Hutch was there; holding him like a mother holds a car-sick child. He let his partner put him back in the car.  
He hid behind his shades and hoped that they were nearly home.

He leaned heavily on Hutch as they staggered up the stairs to his apartment.   
He allowed himself to be lowered onto the bed and soon felt something cool over his eyes. Hutch was asking him something. He strained to hear what it was; but the red fog was booming in his ears. He focused all his attention on Hutch’s voice – he was asking about medication. Starsky summoned up the strength to speak and he heard Hutch open the bathroom cabinet. “Must’ve made myself understood” he thought.

Hutch gave him his pills and some more water. He lay down and prayed that they would have time to take effect before the next wave of nausea hit. The nausea won the battle and once again he was grateful for his friend’s support while he threw up. It felt like his molten brain was trying to leave his skull through his nostrils. His eyes were too heavy and burning in their sockets. He felt the soft sanctuary of his mattress as Hutch lay him down again.

He tried to summon up a quip when he felt Hutch start to undress him; then he curled up under the covers. Hutch’s voice came through the fog “How come you get house calls that easy?” Starsky thought he replied to the question; but then again…

  
****************************************************************

 

The door bell rang and Hutch went to open it. The doctor was a beautiful black woman in her late forties and Hutch let her in with a grin. She went straight to the bedroom and touched Starsky’s face. “Well you don’t have fever with this one.” She turned to Hutch “How many pills did he take?”

“Two.”   
“Ok and how long between taking them and throwing up?”  
“I don’t know, five maybe ten minutes.”  
“Were they still whole when they came back?”  
“Yes.”

The doctor opened her bag and took out a syringe and an ampoule of medication.  
“OK Dave; time to be a big brave boy.” A brown muscular arm appeared from under the blankets and Starsky let out a slight whimper as she injected the pain killer into his vein.  
“You’re improving,” she laughed, and bent down to kiss his brow. Starsky giggled and then fell into deep sleep.  
“He’s out for a couple of hours. It would be better if you can stay with him just in case.”  
Hutch looked at her “In case of what?”  
“Well he usually sleeps without any problem; but there is always the danger that he’ll vomit again - and if he doesn’t wake up properly he could choke. I’ll drop by on my way home this evening and see how he’s doing.”

Hutch saw her to the door. Before he opened it he had to ask one thing.  
“You seem to know him pretty well.”   
She went over to the couch and sat down. “I met Dave about ten years ago. He was in the army hospital in Hawaii. I was an Army doctor back then and I worked with the doctor who got his leg back into shape. Do you know how lucky he is to be able to walk? No, I see you don’t. Dave keeps a lot to himself – I’ll bet you didn’t know about his migraines until you saw one.”  
Hutch nodded. “Not long after we first met; he went home from the Academy early saying he had a headache. He came back two days later looking like he’d been really sick. About a year later we were out on a case and he nearly passed out on me. I took him home but he said he’d be OK. I saw him get one like this about a year ago; but the pills stayed down that time.”  
“And that’s when you learned how to handle him?”  
“Yes.”  
“You make a good nurse! I’ll be back later.”  
Hutch closed the door and went in to check on “sleeping beauty”. Starsky was lying half on his side and his face had relaxed into a slight smile. He’d thrown the covers off and Hutch gently put them back then he went back into the other room and settled on the couch with a magazine.

Starsky slept. Hutch was still reading the magazine – and learning more about model-making than he ever really wanted to know – when the ‘phone rang. Hutch got to it before the second ring.  
“Hutch?” It was Dobey. “How is he?”  
“He’s asleep. He threw up his medication and his doctor came by and gave him a shot.”  
“He got a house call?”  
“Like Starsky said, Captain, you should see the doctor! Seriously; she’s known him since Hawaii and I think she has a soft spot for him.”  
Dobey guffawed.

  
****************************************************************

  
Starsky was groping his way through the red fog; trying to find some relief from his pain. He wanted to lean on something cool. He sensed some kind of cloud up ahead and went and rested his face against it; it was cool and damp and eased the burning in his eyes.   
He could hear voices; but there was no-one in sight. The fog was roaring in his ears and enveloping him in its poisonous embrace. He knew that he had to fight against it; but he couldn’t. It sapped the strength from his limbs and blurred every attempt he made to focus himself.

The voices were coming closer. He recognized Hutch’s voice; he was talking to a woman. Starsky’s brain fought to home in on who the other person was. It was his doctor; his saving angel who knew how to take this miserable pain away. He put out his arm and gritted his teeth and felt the needle go into his vein. In his bizarrely heightened state of awareness he could feel the progress of the morphine as it worked up his arm and into his circulation. The red fog started to recede and with it the roaring in his head calmed down. A new color began to invade his awareness; the cool white mists of pain relief swirled around him and carried him off to a world of sleep and emptiness.  
He was floating on a cloud up in the mists. He soon lost sight of the world. Darkness closed in and he slept. He had no idea of how long he slept. He woke and the cloud that he was on floated gently down to lay him on the solid comfort of his bed. The mists were still surrounding him; blocking out the pain. But the pain had not gone away.

When the mists began to clear; he took a deep breath and checked to see if his brain and body were coordinating again.   
He needed the bathroom. He tried to sit up and the red fog came menacingly close again.  
He half opened his eyes and saw that Hutch was watching him.

  
*********************************************************** 

Starsky had slept thirteen hours straight. Hutch slept on the couch; he woke regularly like a parent worried about a sick child. He would go into the bedroom and make sure that Starsky was covered by the blanket. He stood and looked at his sleeping partner and wondered what was happening inside his head.  
Hutch was sitting by the bed when Starsky opened his eyes and groaned.  
“How are you feeling?”   
Starsky’s voice was faint and hoarse.  
“Like someone hit me over the head with a sledgehammer then kicked me in the gut.”  
He started to get out of bed, but the moment he lifted his head from the pillow the firework display started behind his eyes again. He slumped back and looked at Hutch through half-open eyes. “I’m gonna need a little help here buddy – or you’ll have to change the sheets.”  
Hutch helped him out of bed and supported him to the bathroom. He held Starsky’s shoulders to steady him and was amazed that even in this state his buddy could crack a joke - “It’s ok, just hold my body steady; I can take care of the rest!” Starsky peed thirteen hours’ worth and Hutch helped him back to bed.

Back in bed, Starsky lay on his back with his arm across his eyes. “Get me a glass of water would ya please?” Hutch went into the kitchen and filled a big glass from the water cooler.  
He held Starsky up while he sipped at the water. “I think I might keep one of those pills down now.” Starsky’s voice was hoarse; he spoke carefully as if each word was an effort and every movement painful. He went on sipping the water while Hutch brought him one of his pills. Hutch was reading the label on the bottle. “It’s a good thing I don’t get these migraines – what could I take?”  
“I’m sure Doctor Laurence would find something for you; she’s very good.”  
“She told me about how she met you.”  
“She saved my life, Hutch. There was a moment when I didn’t think I’d walk away from that place; I was pretty low and she…er…she helped buck up my morale…if you see what I mean.”  
Hutch saw exactly what he meant; and he would have hoped for the same treatment in the circumstances. He was about to say something along those lines when he saw that Starsky was asleep again. He went into the kitchen to see if there was anything he could eat. He found some good cheese in the fridge and put some of it on a plate with an apple. He took his meal back into the living room and settled on the couch; he switched on the TV and watched a game with the sound turned down.

Someone knocked on the door and he opened to greet Dr. Laurence. “How is he?”  
“He woke about an hour ago; he was still feeling lousy and took one of his pills. He’s sleeping.”  
She looked relieved. “Good. I hoped he wouldn’t need a second shot. I know how much he hates them.”

This was news to Hutch who had seen his partner through a series of shots when the lab was trying to find an antidote to a poison that a crazed professor had tried to kill him with. He looked at Dr. Laurence for an explanation. She saw the question in his eyes.  
“Why don’t you make me a cup of that nice herb tea that David hides behind the soda cans in his cupboard?”  
Hutch went into the kitchen and looked behind the soda cans. Sure enough there was a tin of herb tea. He boiled up the kettle and made a pot of the sweet smelling brew.  
Dr. Laurence took her cup and gestured a toast.  
“When David was in the hospital he had to have injections nearly every two hours. We didn’t have the drips and pumps we have available now and that was still the best way to keep the dosage regular. It was Ok at first – he was too groggy to notice much that was going on. But when he was a bit more alert…oh boy. He tried to pretend he wasn’t in pain, just to avoid another shot.”

A groggy voice from the bedroom interrupted the conversation. “Hey, Hutch; you got my personal physician out there!”

Hutch and the doctor went to Starsky’s bedside. He was lying on his side and he looked a little better than he had an hour ago. Dr. Laurence sat on the edge of the bed. She touched Starsky’s brow and stroked his cheek. “Feeling better now Dave?” He nodded.  
“Take it quietly until tomorrow. Try to eat something and make sure that you drink plenty.”  
“You could start with this.” Hutch held out a cup of the herb tea that he’d brewed. Starsky summoned up a smile. “Shit; another secret down the tubes!”  
Dr. Laurence grinned. “Oh David; your secrets are safe with me.” She leaned down and kissed him gently.   
“That’s the kind of bedside manner that’ll get us both into trouble!” he said. He sipped his tea and looked at Hutch out of the corner of his eye, “You do not have a monopoly on being weird you know. Now get outta here, I need to sleep a little more; I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”  
He snuggled himself down in the nest of covers and pillows that he’d made for himself and was asleep before Hutch could think of a suitable retort. Hutch and Dr. Laurence left the room and let themselves out of the house as quietly as they could.

  
****************************************************************

 

The next morning Hutch arrived at work to find Starsky bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to take on all-comers in the wild world of LA crime. The only hints that his partner had been so sick were the goblet of water that he kept re-filling at the fountain and the black-lensed glasses that he was wearing pushed up to protect his still sensitive eyes from the light.

  
Dobey was sitting on the desk and talking to Starsky – Hutch could see that his partner was not happy with what he was hearing. He stepped closer and picked up the conversation.

“It’s not a suggestion, Dave, it’s an order. The two of you have had a bad time in the past few weeks and as for your last performance….”

Starsky looked up to protest and Hutch sat down opposite him; he gestured with his eyes to be put into the picture.  
“Ah, Ken; glad to see you got here today too. I was just telling Starsky here….”  
“He was telling me that we have the choice between taking two weeks’ sick leave, or two weeks’ suspension without pay.”  
“I didn’t say that!” The Captain protested.  
Starsky looked up at him, one blue eye opened wider than the other in an expression of mock innocence. “No but you were going to; admit it.”  
“I was going to put you on leave on half-pay!”  
Hutch mugged Starsky and signaled a look of resignation. “Well Starsk; I’d rather the sick leave than half pay.”  
Starsky surrendered. “Ok Captain; if it makes you happy put us off on sick leave - for one week.”  
“Ten days”  
“You win!”

Starsky looked over at Hutch. “Ok, so how do we spend this unexpected vacation?” He paused and turned back to Dobey who was about to go into his office and sign the appropriate paperwork. “Captain; if we’re on sick leave don’t we have to be available for a medical check?”  
“Forget it Starsky; you’ve both had medical care within the past ten days – I’ll find a way around the inspection clause. Now get out of here before someone reports a crime and I have to call you back in!”

Hutch stood up and he and Starsky linked arms and skipped in step out of the room.  
“We’re off to take some sick leave..da da da da da da da” they sang to the tune from the Wizard of Oz. The other cops in the room laughed. Dobey shook his head and wiped his brow.

Starsky and Hutch continued their impersonation of Dorothy and her pals all the way down the hallway; leaving a trail of bemused and laughing colleagues. They went down to their cars and Hutch followed Starsky to The Pits.

They double parked round the back of the bar and went in. Huggy was cleaning glasses and the place hadn’t yet come to life.  
“Well well well; what are you two doing here at this hour?”  
“We’re on vacation…” Starsky tried to sing the old hit song but he couldn’t remember the words and as for the tune…he never was too good a singer anyway. He wandered over to the pool table whistling some other tune and set up a game.  
“What’s gotten into him?” Huggy asked Hutch. He motioned to Starsky with his head and added “And why is he wearing his shades in here; isn’t it dark enough for him?”  
“He’s just had one of his really bad migraines – to be honest Huggy I think he may get slightly high on the stuff he takes!”  
“I do not get high!” came a voice from the pool table. “I’m simply in a state of post-migraine euphoria which is whole lot better than feeling miserable which is what often happens.”  
“Post migraine euphoria.” Hutch repeated it slowly and winked at Huggy. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the pill Dr. Laurence left for you to take when you woke up again; would it?”  
Starsky grinned and hit Hutch playfully with the billiard cue. “It might! Now play, I feel like earning some spending money before I take a vacation!”  
Hutch went over to the table. “OK, Paul Newman; how much?” Starsky bit his lower lip and pushed his glasses up his nose as a smile spread across his face. “Twenty.”  
“Twenty cents sounds reasonable to me.” Hutch chalked his cue and aimed at the white ball to break. Just as he started to slide the cue forward Starsky said “Bucks!”  
Hutch missed the ball.  
Starsky took his shot and proceeded to wipe Hutch off the table. He clicked his fingers at Hutch and said “Pay up Blondie!” Hutch reached into his pocket for his wallet but Starsky winked at him. “No; I’ll let you off. You can buy me a coke instead.”  
They sat at the bar and Huggy asked “So what will you guys have?”  
Hutch ordered a beer for himself and a coke for Starsky.  
“So what’s going on?”  
“Well Hug, “Starsky said, “it’s like this. Dobey feels that Hutch and I have been through a lot of bad things and so he’s put us off on ten days sick leave.” He took a draw on his glass.  
“He did what?”  
Hutch took up the conversation. “Yeah; looks like the Captain has a heart after all.”  
They all laughed and Starsky spluttered as the bubbles went up his nose. Hutch patted him on the back and they took their glasses over to a booth and got down to planning their time off.

“So let’s be serious here for once.” Starsky was trying hard to keep a straight face. Hutch could see his eyes behind the dark lenses and they were smiling.  
“I’ve been thinking. I went home only a while back – when did you last see your folks?”  
Hutch thought about it. The last time he’d seen his family when he’d graduated the Police Academy.  
“It’s been a while…”  
“And I’ve always wanted to see Duluth!” Starsky’s grin was infectious and Hutch laughed. Starsky put on a high pitched voice and said “Come on Toto we’re going back to….which state is Duluth in anyhow…oh yes…Minnesota. Well it ain’t Kansas but I guess it’ll do!”  
He raised his glass in a friendly toast and Hutch knew he was defeated before he had a chance to fight.  
Starsky looked at his friend’s face; and pulled his shades down to the end of his nose; he peered over the tops of the frames in mock seriousness “Hey; you do want to see your folks, don’t you?”  
“Sure I do. I’m just wondering if you’re ready for the culture shock.”  
“Hey, I drink herb tea don’t I; how culture shocked do you want me to be?”  
“That isn’t what I had in mind, Starsk. Oh shit I’ll guess we’ll just see what happens.”

****************************************************************

 

Hutch was on the ‘phone and Starsk was sitting on the floor, his dark glasses on the end of his nose, studying a map of the United States.

“Yes, mom…we thought we’d stay maybe a week…well we might go visit a few local sights…no I don’t think so…I’ll call you when we’ve made all our arrangements….I don’t know…well Starsk thinks he’d like to drive over…yes mom I know it’s a long way from LA to Duluth….he enjoys it…He drove up to Seattle not so long ago…..yes….no….no….I’ll call you tomorrow.”  
He put down the ‘phone and sighed.  
“Hey Starsk, you think your mom nags – you should have heard mine!”  
“Yea, I could tell that she is wondering how mad we really are!”  
He was poring over the map and jotting things down on a notepad that he had on the floor next to him.  
Hutch sat on the floor next to him. Starsky was tracing a route along the map with his finger?  
“I figure that if we set out via Vegas we can drive on to Denver – hey we could take a detour and visit the Grand Canyon – I’d love to see that.”  
Hutch nudged him; “How are you going to enjoy the Grand Canyon when you’ll be too freaked out to look down?”  
Starsky took his shades off and stared hard at Hutch: “As long as I don’t have to jump I’ll be OK, Sundown!” He squinted and pushed the shades back up his nose.  
“Still hurting?” Hutch sounded concerned.  
“I’ll be ok; give me a glass of water willya?” Starsky could get through about a gallon of water in a day like this and Hutch knew better than to offer him anything stronger than a coke. He needed to re-hydrate after the throwing up and the effects of the pain-killers; the coke helped re-boost his blood sugars. Hutch had learned to see the danger signs and he still couldn’t figure out how come he hadn’t seen this last attack coming. Starsky hadn’t been extra-sugaring his coffee or guzzling water…he hadn’t even been hitting the candy bars in a big way; Hutch reckoned it was mostly exhaustion. He wondered if they were wise to drive to Duluth.

Starsky had taken them beyond Denver. “We can stick with Highway 70 much of the way; or we can take a coupla detours. Lookit, Hutch from Omaha,” he put his finger on Nebraska, ”we could either go direct to Des Moines and on to Minneapolis or we could go up to Sioux Falls.”  
“Hey; we only have ten days Starsk!”  
“I know; I reckon it’s about a two maybe three day trip. Coupla thousand miles give or take…”  
“Give or take what?”  
“Give or take a detour.”

Hutch settled down to look at the map. Going through Sioux Fall made sense, but on the other hand they’d be off the Interstate and making less time. He decided the time was right to ask the big question. “Whose car are we taking?”  
Starsky looked at him over the rims of his glasses. “You are kidding me aren’t you? I mean when I said two or three days I meant in a car that is capable of doing a steady 55 – not a wreck that starts getting a hissy fit if you suggest it goes over thirty!”  
“And your tomato won’t try to turn itself into soup by overheating?”  
“I’ve called Merle, I’m going over there tomorrow to have the motor tuned up a bit. Trust me.”  
He bent his dark curly head back over the map and started muttering the place names under his breath.

Hutch went to the kitchen “You want coffee Starsk? Or can I offer you something else.”  
“Tea would be better. What you got?”  
“Darjeeling; Lapsang; chamomile; mint…”  
“Lapsang – isn’t that the Chinese one with the smoky taste? I’ll have some of that.”  
Hutch put the kettle on the hob and put the tea in the pot. He watched Starsky planning and thought how like an excited kid his partner was. He just hoped he wouldn’t be too let down when they got to Duluth.

****************************************************************

Two days later they were driving across the desert towards Vegas. Even Hutch could tell that the Torino was running like a dream. Starsky had his window right down and was driving with one arm resting on the door. They were both wearing T-shirts and jeans. No jackets or over-shirts needed to hide holsters and guns. Hutch grinned at Starsky  
“Feels like we’re driving around half naked, doesn’t it?” Starsky nodded (he had his pistol in the glove box just in case).  
Hutch continued “So, where are we staying tonight?” Starsky smiled “Vegas – but you have to promise not to go to the casino!”  
The trip took them three days. Starsky kept stopping to take photos of anything that aroused his curiosity. Hutch watched him snap away at a rock formation or a suburban front yard with hedges trimmed to look like birds or animals. Sometimes it was just a cloud formation that caught his attention. As they drove on through Nebraska and Iowa the scenery became flatter – the great American grain fields stretched out as far as the eye could see. Somewhere in a motel in the middle of the mid-western plains Starsky seemed nervous. Hutch looked for the danger signs that there might be another migraine on the way; but by now his partner was only wearing the shades to protect his eyes from the glare of the sun; he was taking them off indoors.  
They were walking to the diner by the motel and Hutch decided to find out what was bugging Starsky. “Hey, something’s bugging you; want to share it?”  
Two big blue eyes stared at him; “If you really want to know all these wide open spaces are beginning to give me the heeby-jeebies.” Hutch laughed “Don’t worry we hit Minneapolis tomorrow; you can get a fix of city fumes!”

The diner wasn’t great but the food was hot and they were both hungry. They walked back to their rooms and said goodnight.  
“If we start out early we could be at your folks in the afternoon. How about we find breakfast further along and start out about six?”  
Hutch agreed.

The sun was rising when Starsky came out of his room and opened the trunk of the Torino to stash their bags. He pulled out his camera and started taking photos; he got a great one of Hutch coming out of his door and squinting against the sun. “Pay me enough and I won’t use it to blackmail you when we get home!”

They paid the motel and set off on the last stretch of the journey. They stopped at a truck stop and filled the car then headed into the diner to see what was on offer for two hungry young men who hadn’t eaten for nearly twelve hours. Hutch settled for a couple of pancakes and syrup. Starsky ordered a waffle with vanilla ice-cream.  
“You are feeling better, aren’t you?”  
“Fuck you buddy!”

They arrived at Minneapolis just as the afternoon traffic was building up. Hutch navigated Starsky through the city until a new one-way system threw him. They took a couple of turns and Hutch admitted that he was lost. Starsky threw him a look that said “shut up” and seeing a police car across the road he stopped and went over to ask the way. Hutch watched as Starsky chatted with the cop in the car; nodding and grinning. The cop followed him back to where Hutch was waiting; Starsky was talking about the car “….double width steel belt tires; she’s hiked up a little at the rear so the nose kinda dips. The engine is not what your wife has under her hood to go shopping – but then my partner and I need a little more speed now and then.”  
The cop looked at Hutch and then at Starsky; he started to look suspicious. “Where you two boys say you came in from?”   
Hutch spoke first. “Well, officer we’ve driven from LA. Last place we drove through was…where was it Starsk?  
“Dunno. When I’m not on duty I don’t bother to read the signs.”  
The cop smiled “On duty?”  
“Yeah; we’re cops too.” Starsky fished in his jeans pocket and flipped open his wallet to show his badge. “Hey you didn’t think we were bank robbers did you?”  
“Well no,“ the cop replied, slightly embarrassed, “not with a car as visible as this one. You guys uniform?”  
Hutch grinned up at him. “Detectives –we do a lot of undercover work believe it or not?”  
The cop looked again at the Torino’s paint job and laughed. “Well you are from California! Tell you what, follow me and I’ll lead you to the best road out to where you’re headed.”

Starsky got behind the wheel and started the engine; he eased the car away from the curb and fell in behind the Minneapolis PD unit. When the cop waved from his window, Starsky knew to turn right and soon they were heading for the Hutchinson house.

****************************************************************

 

Starsky had the distinct impression that there was someone behind every window in the street watching them as they drove along. A few kids were playing in front of one of the houses – kicking a ball on a neatly manicured lawn – they stopped and stared and the Torino slid past them.

In the driveways of the houses were sensible compacts and sedans; now and there was a second car in a driveway – usually a solid Plymouth or Oldsmobile station wagon. Everything seemed as neat and tidy as the town in that movie he and Hutch had been to see – he couldn’t remember the title as usual, something about ‘wives’ – a story of a suburb where the men replaced their wives with docile robots. Starsky just knew that inside all these houses there was an average American family. He suppressed a giggle (unsuccessfully) and Hutch asked him what he was thinking about.  
“Oh, I was just…uh…wondering…uh…you know; they say that the average family now has two point five kids and I was trying to imagine which half of the kid the parents chose.”  
Hutch guffawed. “You’re nuts; you know that?”  
“That’s why you love me isn’t it?”  
They both giggled again.

Hutch pointed out his parents’ house. “Pull over a minute, Starsk.”  
Starsky pulled the car to the curb –  _yep, that curtain definitely twitched!_  he said to himself.  
Hutch took a deep breath. “You know Starsk; my folks hardly met you at the Academy graduation in fact…”  
“They didn’t meet me; I party-pooped. I wasn’t there!”  
“OK. Well I mean I’ve talked about you a lot and they know that I don’t work in a nine-to-five office and all that…”  
“You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you? C’mon Blondie; spit it out.”  
“Well what I’m trying to say is that my folks are not…well they’re not what you're used to and maybe when I said ‘culture shock’ the other day….”  
Starsky smiled and composed his face in the expression he always assumed when he was about to launch into an imitation of his mother. “Oy vay; he’d gonna tell me his momma might serve me bacon for breakfast! Hutch this is me, Starsky, (he did a pretty good imitation of Huggy) I can handle gentiles you know.”  
Hutch rolled his eyes. “Ok drive on. But try to behave yourself!”  
“Who me? I’m just an innocent kid from the streets coming to mix with the rich folks."  
Hutch hit him just hard enough to make him shut up.  
“Point taken… Kenny!”  
Starsky pulled the Torino up onto the driveway behind the sensible Chrysler and winked at Hutch as he opened his door. “Come on Toto.”

Starsky opened the trunk and hitched their bags out and onto the ground. He heard the door open.  
“Kenny. Oh Kenny dear it is so good to see you. Let me look at you now. Why I do believe you’ve grown a mustache. My oh my Kenny I don’t know if I like it. And I think you’ve lost some weight, well I don’t suppose you eat properly; like all bachelors.”

Hutch was trying to interrupt her. He finally took hold of her shoulders and kissed her.  
“Why Kenny! What will people say?”  
“Mom. This is my partner - Dave Starsky.”  
Starsky held out his hand politely and Mrs. Hutchinson shook it absently. She had seen the car.  
“Kenny dear, is this your car?”  
“Well no mom, it’s Dave’s car.”  
“Oh my goodness, what will people say when they see that in our driveway? They’ll think that you have joined the hippies or something.”  
Starsky looked at his car and then at Hutch’s mom. “Mrs. Hutchinson, ma’am, hippies wouldn’t drive a car like this. If you want to see a hippy car …….”  
Hutch kicked his shin and he shut up. Starsky stuck his tongue out at Hutch as soon as his mother’s back was turned. “A hippy car! Shit, Hutch I’m beginning to understand about culture shock”  
“Watch your language, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”  
They picked up their bags and Starsky followed Hutch into the house. He stopped dead in the doorway and looked around the room. The furniture was neatly aligned so that wherever you sat there would be a clear view of the TV set. On each armchair and on the sofa there were hand-crocheted “mats” arranged over the arms and on the backs.   
On the mantelpiece over a fireplace that displayed an electric fake log were more little ornaments than Starsky had seen in a life-time. On the wall a series of photos showed Hutch and his sister at different stages in their lives. High School graduations – his sister was shown graduating the local University then Law School. Her wedding photos and the christenings of all her children covered another bit of the wall. Starsky’s eye followed the display – he was looking for another photo of Hutch; the most recent seemed to be his High School graduation.  
Mrs. Hutchinson was still chattering to her son; keeping him up to date with the marriages and divorces; the births and the deaths of all of the neighborhood.  
Hutch stopped her; “Mom, we’ve had a long drive and both of us are kinda tired.”  
“Oh how silly of me. Why don’t you boys go on upstairs and freshen up. I’ve made up the bed in your sister’s room for ….”  
“David, ma’am.” Starsky gave her his biggest winning smile.  
“Oh yes, of course. Well off you go boys, dinner will be ready in half an hour when your father gets home Kenny.”

Starsky followed Hutch up the stairs. Three bedrooms led off the hall. There was a bathroom and a separate toilet. Starsky made for the toilet. He nearly peed himself. He had never seen a toilet seat with a hand-crocheted cover before. He came out with a big grin on his face. “Wait until you see your room.” Hutch was chuckling quietly. He opened the door and ushered Starsky into a bedroom fit for a teenage girl in the early sixties. The bed was covered with a triple flounced coverlet which matched the curtains around the vanity-style dressing table. The curtains made the bedcover look restrained.  
“I’ll never sleep in here. “ Starsky whispered. “I’ll be having nightmares that the Seven Dwarves are after my virginity!”  
“Shut up! If my mother hears you …….”  
“Ok don’t worry; I know how to be a good-mannered house guest. Hey I am house-trained you know!”  
They were still trying not to laugh when they heard Hutch’s father arrive home. No sooner had the door closed than Mrs. Hutchinson called up the stairs: “Dinner’s on the table boys.”

They went down stairs and Starsky shook hands with Mr. Hutchinson and exchanged a polite greeting. Hutch’s father seemed cold and Starsky was beginning to wonder if this trip was such a good idea. Mr. Hutchinson went to his place at the head of the table and Starsky took the chair that Hutch pointed to. He was about to sit down when he saw that the others were standing behind their chairs. He stood still and watched. Mrs. Hutchinson turned and smiled at him. “David, as our guest perhaps you’d like to say grace.”  
Starsky was about to stammer out a reply when Hutch saved him. “No mom why don’t you say it – I haven’t been home for so long and you say it so beautifully.”  
Mrs. Hutchinson closed her eyes (Starsky half-closed his and watched as Hutch and his father did the same) and she recited a grace prayer. When he saw that Hutch had opened his eyes, Starsky opened his…and began to regret it. The main source of light in the room was a big lamp hanging over the center of the table and it was shining right in his eyes. He sat down and hoped that he’d make it through the meal.  
Mrs. Hutchinson placed a casserole on the table and started to serve the contents on to the plates stacked in front of her. She handed the first plate to her guest who took it with a polite smile and waited until everyone else was served. Hutch looked at his plate and said “Mom you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Tuna and broccoli casserole!”  
His father looked at him “Well I’m sure your mother wanted to give you a home-coming treat Kenneth.” He started to eat.   
Starsky looked at the plate. You could have fooled him that this was tuna and broccoli. He’d never seen gray broccoli! He felt his stomach lurch. He took a polite forkful and forced himself to swallow it. After a couple more mouthfuls he caught Hutch’s eye across the table. Hutch signaled with his eyes as if to say “shut up and eat it!”

After dinner they went into the living room to drink coffee. Hutch’s father lit a pipe and as soon as he put his spent match in the ashtray Mrs. Hutchinson jumped up to empty it. She returned still wiping it with a cloth and placed it next to her husband’s coffee cup. Starsky noted all this in silence and wondered what in the hell he’s let himself in for here.

They drank their coffee in silence. Mr. Hutchinson leaned forward and switched on the TV. “News” he grunted and leaned back to watch the latest summary of the day’s ups and downs. The broadcast started with a report of a hostage-taking and shooting in Minneapolis. Mrs. H sighed and said “Oh dear, I do so worry about you Kenneth when I see things like this on the television. I still cannot see why you wanted to join the police.”  
Her husband interrupted. “Edith, please can we watch this in peace!”  
Hutch looked embarrassed. The newscast over, the TV was switched off again and Mrs. Hutchinson took up where she’d left off. She turned to Starsky and said “What do you parents feel about you being a policeman David?” Hutch waited with baited breath.  
“Well ma’am. My dad was a cop so I guess….”  
“Was?”   
“Yes ma’am; he was killed when I was thirteen. After I came out of the army it was what I wanted to do.”  
Hutch sighed inside.  
“You were in the Army, young man?” Hutch’s father leaned forward with interest.  
“Yes sir. I spent some time in ‘Nam.” Mrs. Hutchinson gasped.   
Mr. Hutchinson seemed to be intrigued by what Starsky had said.  
“You know we wanted Kenneth to stay at college to avoid the draft. We were very active in protesting that War. I’ve often wondered how the young men who fought it could justify it to themselves.”  
“Me too, sir. I was drafted. I hated every minute of it.”  
There was an embarrassed silence  
Mrs. Hutchinson broke the silence by asking her son about his most recent injury.  
“I sometimes get the feeling that we do not hear everything that happens to you dear.”  
Starsky grinned at her. “Mrs. Hutchinson if we told our moms about every little scratch and wound we took; you would both have white hair.”  
She looked at him. “I’m sure you are right David. Please, call me Edith.  
“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Hu…Edith.”   
Hutch stood up. “You know I think maybe I’ll turn in – it’s been a long few days and I’m still not really over the bullet wound.”  
He left the room. Starsky saw the troubled look pass over Edith’s face. “Why don’t I help you with the dishes ma’am? We could talk about it a little if you like.” She stood up and led him into the kitchen.  
Starsky couldn’t take it all in at once. Considering what a tendency to slob Hutch had, his mother’s kitchen was amazing. Every surface shone like new. A rack of pans over the stove showed no sign of any of them ever having been used – but the empty hook and the dirty pan in the sink proved that they were. The cabinets had glass fronts and Starsky spotted the neatly aligned cans and bottles – he didn’t need to check to see that they were in alphabetical order. Mrs. Hutchinson tied an apron around her waist and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. She started to run hot water into the sink and added soap liquid.  
“Now, David, if you would be a dear and take a cloth from the drawer over there you can wipe things dry for me.”  
She plunged the plates into the water and began washing them; “Tell me about Kenneth’s injury, David. He keeps so much from us. His father has never really forgiven him for not finishing college.”  
Starsky took pity on her. He had once read that compulsive neatness was a sign of a neurotic personality and he was beginning to see that Edith followed the pattern. _Living with a miserable guy like Hutch’s dad, can’t be a barrel of laughs._  He started about how to tell Mrs. Hutchinson about what had happened in the Mall.  
“Well ma’am…Edith…it’s kind of a long story so forgive me if I ramble on.” He flashed her one of his lopsided smiles.  
“A couple of years ago I arrested a kid and his father for drug-dealing…”  
“Oh my goodness; what kind of man would drag his son into a thing like that.” She had finished the plates and was emptying the water from the sink. As she turned the faucet back on and added more soap Starsky told her about Proudholm and his campaign of revenge. Mrs. Hutchinson listened as she washed the silverware and Starsky talked gently as he dried the dishes. When he got to the part about Terri his voice quavered. Edith Hutchinson turned to him. “You poor boy! Kenneth told me that you loved her very much. I’m sorry, David, I interrupted you….”  
Starsky told her the rest and finally got to how Hutch had been shot in the neck.  
He stopped. Edith had now emptied the sink once more and was preparing to deal with the casserole dish and the dirty pan that were still waiting to be washed. Starsky had finished drying and was standing with the cloth in his hand. He saw that tears were streaming down her face. He gently wiped them away with his finger. She turned and tried to summon up a smile. “I’m sorry to be so silly but he is still my little boy.”  
Starsky laughed softly: “That’s just what my mom says…she calls me her baby. Hey I’m thirty two years old …and I’m the eldest!”  
“I guess mothers just can’t help themselves sometimes.” She said through her tears.  
A sound behind him made Starsky turn around; John Hutchinson was standing in the doorway. “Edith, pull yourself together. Kenneth made his choice and we have to live with it.” He went back into the living room and they heard the television set announce the start of a documentary about penguins. Starsky grinned at Edith and said. “After Terri died, Hutch and I got drunk one night; he tried to sign us up to play football in Canada and I said you need to be penguin to live there!” That brought a smile to her face.  
Starsky excused himself and went to bed. When he got upstairs he saw that the light was on in Hutch’s room; he tapped on the door and put his head around it. Hutch was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. “You Ok?”  
“Yeah, I guess so. I warned you it would be a culture shock. Thanks for all you did this evening.”  
“That’s what friends are for isn’t it? Sleep well Toto tomorrow you’re gonna show me all around the land of the Munchkins!” Hutch threw a pillow at him, but Starsky shut the door in time. He slipped into the bedroom and prepared himself for a night in Sleeping Beauty’s boudoir.

****************************************************************

Starsky and Hutch met on the landing. Hutch was coming out of the bathroom, his towel wrapped around his waist. “It’s all yours buddy. Mom and Dad are already down there.” He nodded his head towards the kitchen below.  
Starsky went into the bathroom and showered and shaved in record time. The frills and fluff intimidated him.  
He and Hutch went down to breakfast together. John Hutchinson greeted them with a gruff “Morning” and finished his coffee. He pecked his wife on the cheek and left the house.  
“Now boys, what will you have? I’ve already made oatmeal because I know how much you like it Kenny. Do you like oatmeal David?”  
Starsky gave Hutch the silent question and said “Well thank you Edith; just a little I don’t each that much for breakfast.” Hutch nearly choked on his reconstituted frozen Florida orange juice as he thought of Starsky’s habitual performances when they had breakfast together – cold pizza, a burger and a coke were more his style! Edith continued: “I have eggs and sausage, I have tomatoes and of course bacon…” She trailed off and looked embarrassed. “Oh perhaps bacon isn’t a good idea.” Starsky shot a look at Hutch who mouthed “Don’t!”

The both opted for toast and jelly and washed it down with coffee; at least Starsky assumed it was coffee.

Breakfast over Hutch said “Come on Starsk. I’ll show you the sights of beautiful downtown Duluth. We won’t be home for lunch, mom. See you this evening.” He steered Starsk out of the house before his partner could say anything.

In the car Starsky put on his shades and started the engine. “Where to?”  
Hutch looked at him; it was not the sunniest of days and Starsky needed his shades! “Oh oh!” he thought but he kept it to himself.  
“City or Lakeside? Which do you want to see?”

Starsky opted for the lake side tour and they set off towards Brighton Beach. Although Fall was over, the trees still showed a little color here and there. They picked up Highway 61 and drove north. Starsky slowed down and stared out of the window as he drove. He had never seen anything like this in his life. He stopped the car on a turn in the road and gasped at the breathtaking view that unfolded in front of him. “Look at that!”  
Hutch smiled at him and said “welcome to the other America, buddy.” Starsky reached over to the back seat and pulled out his camera. For the next few minutes Hutch leaned on the car and watched as his friend fired off a reel of shots with his Nikon. He was like a kid let loose in a candy store, hopping from one viewpoint to another and grinning from ear to ear. He came back to the car and changed the film.  
“Don’t use it all at once, kiddo, there’s plenty more like this up further north. Lake Superior just gets more and more beautiful as you go along.”  
Starsky got back in the car and started it up again.  
“How far can we get along this road?”  
“It goes on all the way to Canada – about 150 miles.”   
Starsky seemed to be calculating something in his head. He looked in the side mirror and turned back the way they’d come.  
“Hey Starsk; what’s the matter.”  
“Penguins!” He looked at Hutch over his lenses and grinned. “Seriously, I was thinking…”  
“Careful; you don’t want to bring on a headache!”  
“I’m serious, Hutch. Let’s do the ‘City tour’ today and then tomorrow we’ll spend some time with your mom – she’s in need of a bit of attention, I reckon. And then I thought we could maybe drive all the way up to the border, find a place to stay overnight and come back the next day – looks like there’s another road down there nearer the shoreline.”

Hutch looked at him out of the corner of his eye. His friend was tender-hearted. He loved his own mother dearly and hated to call her to say he’d been hurt or sick because he knew how much she worried. Now Starsky was concerned about Hutch’s mom – and he hadn’t even noticed that something was wrong. “What do you mean?”  
Starsky stared ahead as if he was concentrating on navigating his way through the outskirts of the city.  
“She’s unhappy, Hutch. You have to admit that your dad is no ray of sunshine. I don’t know if he’s always like that or if it’s ‘cos you’re home – maybe he doesn’t like me – but he’s been real grumpy with her and it stands out a mile that she needs help.”  
“Help?”  
“Yeah. I’ve been there, Hutch – blue mud. I saw Nancy through it too. Your mom needs someone to talk to – and I’m learning how to listen right now.”  
“You’re learning how to listen? What are you talking about Starsk?”  
Starsky saw a place to pull off the road; he stopped the engine and turned in his seat to look at his partner face to face.  
“If I’m going to handle my unhappiness and my fear I have to learn to listen. I listen to what I’m taught to help me make sense of it all – and I listen to me, inside me the part of me that still screams out to Terri to stay with me. Your mom’s a troubled lady, Hutch; you must have seen that by now.”

Hutch sat back. He was astounded at Starsky’s analysis of the situation. He thought about what his friend had just said. His mom seemed her usual fussy self – but he had to admit that the frill and flounces in the house seemed to have multiplied since he was home the last time.  
“Go on. I’m listening.”  
“Ok; I don’t know your mom. For all I know she dressed you and your sister in hand-crocheted sweaters when you were kids. She might even have cleaned up behind you the minute you made a mess – but Hutch look at her! She took the ashtray to clean it when your dad had only put one spent match in it! When I helped her with the dishes last night…jeez the opposite of you, you slob! She washed the plates; changed the water; did the silverware; changed the water…do I need to draw a picture. We both went to that lecture about psychotic behavior. Your mom’s behavior is hyper-obsessive! She says she’s worried about you – fair enough, I’ll bet she’s never heard a bullet except on the TV; and I don’t suppose the crime rate around her neighborhood is much to worry about. But I think there’s more to it; that’s all. And I think you should give her some of your time. In fact, I think I might take off on my own and see if there are penguins across the border. Give you a couple of days with her – and her with you.”  
“We’ll see. I’ll try to talk to her this evening.”  
“Try! Shit Hutch, your mom is feeling lousy and you come over all cool and Scandiwegian and say ‘I’ll try to talk to her’! Don’t try, buddy – do it before it’s too late.”

That hit Hutch hard; as if Starsky had done the unthinkable and punched him in the gut. Worst of all, he knew that Starsky was right. He tried to cover his embarrassment by asking. “Scandiwegian? What in the hell does that mean?”  
“Well I never did know if your folks came from Sweden or Norway or wherever. Round here who can tell; everybody is big and blond and blue-eyed. But I do remember that Norwegians don’t like to be called Scandinavians so I kinda put the two together to be safe.”  
Hutch laughed and patted Starsky on the shoulder. “Come on; there’s an old bar in the city I think you’ll like – it’s Irish.”

Starsky started singing his own take on “Danny Boy”; slightly out of tune. Somehow Hutch had the feeling that Danny’s Irish-yiddisher mother might be calling!

Starsky found a parking spot and checked to see if he had to pay a meter. He saw the machine was couple of cars further on and went to put in a couple of coins. Then he jogged to catch up with Hutch and allowed him to lead the way to a bar with a view of a park by the lake. They sat at a table on the grass outside the bar/restaurant. Hutch ordered an egg salad sandwich and Starsky, after looking through the menu asked for a burger. When it arrived he looked at it and started to pick at the meat absent mindedly.  
Hutch noted another danger sign. “Are you sure you should go off on your own in the next couple of days?” Starsky looked at him with a steady blue gaze. “No I’m not, but on the other hand I think your mom needs her blue-eyed baby boy all to herself. I might not go further than a hotel in town. OK?” He started breaking up the bun from his lunch and throwing it to the birds that gathered near the table. He picked at the meat, but in the end he hardly ate anything. He did, however drink a pitcher of ice-water.

Hutch was thinking about his mom. It was true she seemed even more obsessed about tidiness than ever.   
It could have been anything; it might be nothing, but the cop was alerted as much by his mother’s behavior as his father’s coldness.

Starsky was watching his buddy from behind his dark glasses. With the sun on his face the lenses were as black as they would go – and Hutch couldn’t see that he was under scrutiny. _He’s worried about her and he doesn’t want to say so_. Starsky mused on what he had seen and sensed in the Hutchinson household. There was a tension that unnerved him; he was sure that things would be better if he withdrew. His head was buzzing ominously and he’d already spotted a cute looking hotel down by the lake that he would check into if he didn’t feel better the next morning. He fished in his pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills that were supposed to stop his headache before it started – he swallowed one and mentally crossed his fingers.

Hutch was standing up and Starsky followed him – he left a tip on the table.  
“Ok, the old city of Duluth is a trolley ride away.”  
They took the trolley down to the old quarter and Hutch pointed out the mansions dating from the turn of the century – the era when the Carnegie and Cooke and the other Robber Barons had lived in splendor when the Railroads were at the height of their power. Starsky went through another reel of film and charged the last of his stock into the Nikon just in time to get a shot of an interesting old factory. He took another series of shots of the trolley after they had climbed off it to return to the car.  
“That was great. I love the trolleys in San Francisco; I didn’t know they had them here.”  
“When I was a kid someone told me that San Francisco was Duluth without the ice.”   
“Oh yeah; I don’t see any hippies or gays –frozen or not.”  
“This is Middle America, Starsk; it takes time for these things to filter through.”  
They started to chuckle as they walked to the Torino.  
Starsky was right – there was no sign of any “minority” in Duluth. That probably explained the crowd of kids gathered round the Torino peering in through the windows and shyly stroking the paintwork. Hutch stopped and nudged his partner’s arm. Starsky immediately pushed his shades up his nose. “Come on, he said; let’s have little fun.”  
The two of them walked over to the car doing what they called the “pimp roll”. Hutch took extra long strides and Starsky’s strangely uneven gait took on a sinister appearance when he plunged his hands into his jacket pockets and led with his shoulders. The two of them pretended to be chewing gum. As they approached the car Starsky put on his strongest Bronx accent and called over to Hutch. “Hey waddya think dose guys are doing to moi cah.”  
“I sure don’t know; but I guess we need to teach ‘em a little respect.”  
“Yee-ah You goddit partner. I tink maybe dey need to step back a little before I use onea dem to wipe de windshield.”

The kids dispersed and the two of them doubled over laughing;  
Starsky turned round and took his shades off. “Hey kids, we were only kidding. If you want to have a look at the car you’re welcome.”  
The kids edged back to the Torino. One of them asked “Hey Mister, is that one of those new CB radios?”  
“Nope.” Starsky replied, “It’s a police radio.”  
“You’re not cops; the police don’t drive cars like that!”  
“Well we do in LA.”  
The kid looked from Starsky to Hutch in wonder. “You’re cops from LA?”  
“Ssssh” said Hutch, “we’re here on a very secret mission so…” He put his finger on his lip and looked over his shoulder as if he expected someone to attack him. Starsky was already in the car; he leaned over and opened Hutch’s door. They drove off before the kids could decide if they’d been telling the truth or not.

Starsky pulled up onto the drive and they went into the house.

“Oh boys, you’re back early. Your father has his lodge meeting tonight Kenny and I was going to make sandwiches for supper because I thought you’d be eating out at lunchtime, but I can always……..”  
“It’s ok mom, sandwiches will be just fine. Let me help you make them.”  
Starsky waited a second and then said “I think I’ll go mark the reels on my films Hutch. I’ll be down later.”  
He went upstairs and closed the bedroom door.

  
The three of them sat eating sandwiches and talking about Hutch’s childhood. His mother was happy showing Starsky the photo albums and he couldn’t resist winding Hutch up over a few of them. One of them caught his attention; two little blond haired kids playing on what seemed to be mountain of sand. “Oh that’s Park Point.” Edith told him. “I believe that it is the biggest sand bar in the world. The children used to love to go there when they were little.”  
“Is it far from here?”  
“Oh no dear; it’s up the lake a little way. Maybe Kenny will show you tomorrow.”  
Starsky put down his plate and wiped a crumb from his mouth.  
“Actually Edith, if you don’t mind, I thought I’d take off and drive up to the border. I’m kinda curious to see Canada – even from a distance.” He caught Hutch’s smile and hid his own behind his hand. “I need to be on my own for a while now and then, I thought I’d find a hotel and come back the next day…if you don’t think I’m being rude…I mean if you don’t mind your guest taking off the moment he arrives.”  
“Oh no, David dear; I quite understand. I could prepare you something to eat on the way of you like.”  
“Oh no; I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

Hutch raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He noticed that his mother was fiddling with the edges of her apron. Starsky caught the look and said “Hey I think the fresh air has knocked me out…if you’ll excuse me Edith I’m going to turn in.”

He left Hutch to speak to his mother alone.

  
****************************************************************

  
The next morning after breakfast Starsky threw his bag onto the back seat of the car and headed off. His head felt fine and he decided to see how far up the Lake Superior shore he could get before lunch time. As he got into the car he turned to Hutch and said “Give her all your time; she needs it.”

  
Hutch watched the Torino disappear up the street and went back into the house.  
His mother was fussing in the kitchen; doing the dishes in stages as she had when Starsky helped her.  
“Mom,” Hutch said softly, “Mom what’s the matter?”  
She turned and looked at him. “What do you mean, Kenny? I’m fine, just fine.” She turned back to the sink but Hutch wasn’t a detective for nothing. He put an arm around her shoulder and said “When you’ve finished why don’t we go out and have lunch in town?”  
“Well Kenny I don’t know; I have so much to do what with the extra beds to make up and the vacuuming and the dusting and I haven’t done a wash for two days and…”  
He stopped her.  
“I made up my bed, mom, and I know Starsky enough to tell you that his room will be whole lot neater than mine. It won’t hurt if you don’t do the housework for just one day and I’ll bet you and dad have plenty of clean underwear. Come on; when is the last time you just went out for fun?”

His mother looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t know dear. Your father and I don’t go out much and now that your sister has moved away we don’t see the grandchildren either.”

“Go upstairs and put on something pretty. I’m taking you out to lunch and then we’ll go and do a little shopping.”  
His mother hesitated; but seeing the expression on Hutch’s face she gave in. “I won’t be a minute dear.”

Hutch settled in the couch and flicked through a magazine. He heard his mother coming down the stairs and slipped the magazine back where he’d found it. He stood up and turned to greet her. She was wearing a neat suit that he remembered from his High School graduation and a pillbox hat was perched on her wave-set hair. She looked like a photo from an old magazine. He took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “I like my dates to look pretty.” He said.

Hutch drove the station wagon into town. His mother directed him to a new parking lot; she seemed very impressed that it was built on five underground levels; Hutch wondered whether she was losing touch with the real world. He laughed at himself; Starsky’s ‘real’ world or his?  
They parked and went up to the street level. The area was being redeveloped and an old mattress factory was being transformed into a modern mall with shops and restaurants. Mrs. Hutchinson seemed excited at the prospect – Hutch thought it was a shame to see Duluth join the ranks of yet another city with malls and parking lots and few distinguishing features. They walked to an older street and looked in a few shop windows. His mother caught his arm “Oh Ken, isn’t that pretty.” He turned to follow her gaze – there was a coffee shop across the road decked out with Thanksgiving decorations. He took her hand and led her across the road. “Let’s have coffee and plan our day.”

The waitress took their order. Hutch thought he recognized her, but he hadn’t been home for so long he couldn’t be sure. They ordered coffee and apple Danish rolls.  
His mother sat in silence for a while; she seemed to be focusing on the middle of the street. “Penny for them, mom.”  
She stirred her coffee. “Your father is getting more and more difficult Ken. There are days when I just do not know what to say to him. He isn’t working any more you know.”  
That was news to Hutch. “So where does he go all day?”  
“I don’t really know. Oh Ken; he’s so inconsistent these days; sometimes he is so crabby I just leave the room. And he says such strange things. He makes remarks that are…well…crude. Ken I think your father is losing his mind. There are days when he forgets the simplest things and I just don’t know what to do …”   
Her voice trailed into sobs. She pulled a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her bag and dabbed her eyes. “I’m sorry dear; I don’t want to embarrass you by crying in public.”  
“It’s ok, mom.” He reached out and touched her hand. He signaled to the waitress and paid the check then he helped his mother up and they went out into the street.  
They walked to a little park and found a bench to sit on. Hutch encouraged his mother to pour out all her worries.

His father was becoming more and more inconsistent. He had mood swings that took him from enthusiasm to depression. He was frequently bad-tempered. “But that’s not all, Kenny. There’s a physical thing too. His hands shake and have you noticed the way he walks?”  
Hutch had to admit that he hadn’t noticed, but then all in all since he and Starsky had arrived they had not seen much of John Hutchinson.

Hutch pressed her to tell him more about his father’s physical deterioration. Now he thought about his dad did seem a lot older than his 59 years. He resolved to give it a little more attention that evening.

He took his mother to a traditional restaurant in the heart of the old city. She seemed to enjoy being waited on and fussed over and Hutch knew that this was the best therapy she could have for a while.  
After lunch he insisted on taking her to one of the city’s finest stores and they hunted around the departments finding gifts for the family and their friends; although Thanksgiving wasn’t over, the Christmas stuff was already appearing in the stores.   
“You and David will stay for Thanksgiving, won’t you?”  
He hadn’t thought about it. They were supposed to be back at work on Monday. He promised he’d talk to Starsky about it as soon as his partner came back from his trip.

  
Sitting around the table that evening, Hutch and his parents ate in silence until his father said “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Hutch dropped his fork. “My what?”  
“You heard me; Kenneth. Where’s the pretty boy? Don’t try to tell me that you aren’t having an affair with him – why if I was twenty years younger……..”

Hutch turned on his father angrily. “What in the hell are you saying? “  
“You do nothing but tell us about Starsky this and Starsky that – I guess now I’ve seen him I understand why you’ve stayed in the police.” The older man leered at his son and winked.  
His mother went into the kitchen.

Hutch tried to stay calm, but lost the battle before he could count to one.  
“Do you know what you’re saying? Mom said that you have been saying some weird things recently; but that really is too much. Starsky and I are friends; good friends. I’d risk my life for him and he would for me. I guess we do love each other; but not like that dad. Mom’s right; if you think that about us you are losing your mind! She’s had about enough as she can take; if she wants to come back to LA with me, I’ll find her a place to stay; or we can drop her off at Carol’s.”  
He stopped. His father was looking at him with a stunned expression on his face.  
“If that’s the way she feels; maybe she should pack her bags and go.”  
Hutch’s anger welled up. “That would be too easy, dad. Why should she give you the satisfaction of thinking that you are right?”

Hutch came out of the kitchen: his father was sitting slumped in his chair; the TV was on but the older man didn’t seem to notice it; Hutch noticed the strange movements he was making with his hands – as if he was rolling something between his thumbs and first fingers.  
He went back to his mother. “Mom, have you noticed how dad seems to have some kind of nervous tic with his hands?”  
She looked at him and went on absent mindedly wiping a plate that had been dry for a few minutes. “Yes; I also notice that sometimes his hands shake and he drops things. When that happens he gets so mad and unreasonable. Oh Ken I want him to see a doctor but he won’t listen to me. You try to get him to see reason, dear.”

Hutch went in and sat by his father. He leaned forward and switched off the TV.  
He put his hand out to touch the other man…but something stopped him. The father who had always been there when his son needed him now seemed like a total stranger.  
“Dad?”  
What?”  
“Do you want to talk about it a little?”  
His father stared at him blankly; “talk about what, Ken?”  
Hutch opened his mouth to reply and then decided to leave it until the morning. He went outside and stood in the cool evening air. There were still a few kids shuffling in the leaves on front lawns and he remembered how good it had been to do that when he was a kid. There was a pile of leaves under a tree and he went over. He kicked the leaves and then jumped into the pile and kicked his feet around enjoying the sight and sound of an old boyhood pleasure.

****************************************************************

  
As soon as he finished his breakfast John Hutchinson stood up and said “I’m going out.”  
Hutch looked at his dad and asked “Going anywhere special?”  
His father stared at him. “No, just out; that’s all.”  
“Mind if I come with you?”  
His father nodded. “Get a move on then boy; I don’t have all day.”  
With a sympathetic glance at his mom, Hutch stood up and followed his dad out of the house.

The older man started to walk to his car. As he went to open the door he dropped the keys and Hutch looked on with horror as his father almost toppled over trying to retrieve them. He went round to the driver’s side and picked up the keys. “I’ll drive.” He said gently. His father glared at him and then went round to the passenger side and got in.

Hutch reversed out of the driveway and they set off in silence.  
“Where too?”  
“Take me to the Lakeshore. I like to sit there undisturbed.”  
The way he said the last word startled Hutch. “Undisturbed by what; dad?”  
“Your mother’s incessant nagging and chattering; at least I can smoke a pipe in peace; your mother does nothing but clear me away, Ken.”

“Yes; I …in fact Starsky noticed. He was concerned that mom needed to talk to me – that’s why he went off on his own. Fact is he’s been having such bad migraines these past few days he may only have gone as far as a hotel in town!”

His father turned to look Hutch in the eye. “Is that so? That young man is full of surprises.”  
“You can say that again!” And to Hutch’s amazement his father did so…three times.  
The older man seemed to suddenly be aware that he was repeating himself and became aggressive to hide his embarrassment. He leered at Hutch and said “A very good friend, I’d say.” He made a lewd gesture and Hutch stood up and walked down to the lake shore.

He heard his father calling him and turned to see him walking towards him. There was a slight slope between the bench and the shore and John Hutchinson was taking faster and faster steps as if he could not control his pace. He started to stumble and Hutch was there in time to catch him. He guided his father back to the bench and sat him down.

“How long has this been going on, dad?”  
His father said nothing for a while – the rolling movement had returned to his fingers. Finally he said quietly “About two or three months I guess.”  
“Have you seen a doctor?”  
“Now you sound like your nagging mother.” His voice rose in anger.

His son touched his arm. “Dad, she’s worried about you. So am I; you’re not behaving normally. I’m not leaving until you’ve seen a doctor. Come on; we’re going home to call your physician.”

John Hutchinson let his son lead him to the car, and fold him into the seat. He sat quietly while Hutch drove back towards the house. “Stop the car!”  
Hutch did as he was told.  
“Take a left turn here, we can go to his office.”  
Hutch followed his father’s directions and guided him into the building where the family physician had his office. He had a brief word with the receptionist and then took his father to a seat in the waiting room.

Fifteen minutes later they were in the doctor’s office. Dr Larsson examined Hutch’s father and noted what he was told about the weird behavior.  
“You need to see a neurologist, John. I’ll call Dr Williams right now and see if he can fit you in this afternoon.”  
Hutch looked at his father who was sitting impassively; rolling his fingers.

The doctor put down the ‘phone and handed Hutch a slip of paper with an address and an appointment time written on it.  
“It’s a good thing you came, Ken; sorry to see you again after all this time in these circumstances. Tell Edith I’ll drop by sometime and see what needs to be done.”

Hutch and his father left the office. The appointment was for two-thirty which did not give them time to go home and eat before coming back to the hospital. Hutch suggested a beer and a sandwich and his father seemed happy to agree.

They went into a bar near the hospital; it seemed that half the nursing staff regarded this place as the canteen. Hutch’s father started looking at the young women and his son was shocked to hear him mutter a succession of obscenities under his breath. As soon as they’d finished Hutch paid and they left before his father caused any trouble.

They went into the hospital and Hutch got directions to the neurology consulting suite. The doctor was waiting for them and led John into his office. Hutch discovered that even in Duluth the hospitals had the same brown fake leather couches in the waiting areas – and the same out of date magazines!

It seemed like an hour before Dr Williams came out and beckoned Hutch over.  
“I gather that your father lives alone with your mother. You and your sister have both moved away; is that right?”  
“Yes. She lives in St. Paul…and I live in LA.”  
“I’m afraid that I don’t think your mother will be able to handle your father at home for long. He has Parkinson’s disease and as far as I can tell he is degenerating very fast…physically and mentally. He already displays symptoms that indicate an advanced stage in the illness – of course I can’t tell from what he says how long this has been going on.”

“From what my mom says it’s been about six months.”  
“That is very fast. In cases like this I can’t give an accurate prognosis; your father could live for years but be totally disabled – he could die within twelve months. Whatever the prognosis, he can’t stay at home.”

Hutch sat down. He was faced for the first time in his life with the idea that one of his parents was going to die. He held back the tears that were fighting behind his eyes and said “Have you told him?”  
“Yes I have. I have also suggested that we admit him immediately for more thorough tests. That will give you the time to break the news to your mother.”  
Williams led Hutch back into the office. John Hutchinson was sitting staring at the wall repeating over and over “No wheel chair, no wheel chair.” His fingers were rolling.

Williams explained to Hutch that the three major tell-tale signs of his father’s condition were ‘pill rolling’; tremor and lack of control when walking. The tendency to uncontrolled utterances was secondary and he explained “it is unfortunate with your father it takes the form of obscenity because one of the side effects of the treatment available is to increase sexual desire. I hate to make light of it – but the patients become dirty old men!”

A nurse arrived with a wheel chair and Williams and Hutch coaxed John to sit in it. He continued protesting but sat docilely and was wheeled away to a room on the floor above.  
Hutch dealt with as much of the paperwork as he could and went home to break the news to his mom.

  
He parked the car and went into the house. His mother was dusting all the ornaments on the mantelpiece. He put a hand on her shoulder and led her to the couch.  
“Mom, I have to tell you something.”  
His mother looked at him and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh Kenny; something’s happened to your father hasn’t it?”  
He put his arms around her and drew her close to him. “We went to see the Doctor Larsson and he sent us to a neurologist. Dad has Parkinson’s and they are keeping him in to run some more tests. I’ll take you over there a little later; ok?”

He held his mother while she cried and thought again how tough life can be. Here he was reversing the roles of his childhood; comforting his mother and taking his dad to the doctor’s office. He knew that he had just taken another step forward into the responsibilities of adulthood.

They were still sitting on the couch when the door opened and Starsky walked in. He stopped and looked at mother and son; he closed the door softly behind him. Hutch heard the growl of the engine as Starsky drove away.  
He wanted to run after him; to call him back and lean on his shoulder. But he knew that his mother needed space and that Starsky would be in touch later.

  
Starsky knew that Edith and Ken needed to be alone. He drove into town and checked into a small hotel near the lake. He’d call later and check on what was happening; but right now he didn’t want to intrude.

Later that evening Hutch took his mother to visit at the hospital. As they drove through town he spotted the Torino parked near a hotel. “I wonder if that’s as far as he got?” he thought and smiled.

****************************************************************

  
It was about nine-thirty when Starsky called the Hutchinson’s number; Hutch answered.  
“Hi. It’s me. How is she; and what’s going on?”  
Hutch explained and Starsky could hear Edith sobbing in the background. The visit had not been easy and his father had thrown a glass of water at them as they left. Doctor Larsson was on his way over to give Edith something to help her through the night.

“What about you?” Starsky asked.  
“I’m ok; well no…I…I…uh…I don’t know how I am.”  
“Ask Larsson to give you a little something too. I’ll come by tomorrow morning and we’ll decide how you’re gonna handle this.”  
Hutch took comfort from the way Starsky phrased it.

Dr Larsson came by and explained a little more about Parkinson’s disease. He told them that it was degenerative but at the same time new medicines were being developed all the time. John’s condition was already advanced; but is could remain at the same stage for many years. “On the other hand; the disease can move very quickly and go on doing so. I’m not going to make any promises Edith.”  
They started to discuss the options before them. “For the moment I see no reason why John should not come home. With medication to control his mood swings he won’t be difficult to live with. On the other hand, as he gradually loses his mobility Edith will be unable to support him – literally. He will not be able to climb the stairs for example and your mother is not a tall woman, Kenneth. She would not be able to help him.”

Hutch looked at his mother. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. “Does that mean that he should be in some kind of a home; Richard?”  
“It would be best, yes”  
Edith stared at the doctor that she had known since she was a little girl. “We grew up together, Richard; you and John were in the same teams – you went to college together; and now you are telling me that John is going to become helpless.” She burst into tears and Hutch hugged her to his chest.  
Richard Larsson opened his bag and prepared a syringe. Despite Edith’s protests he gave her a shot and told her to go to bed. She went upstairs and Hutch could hear her sobbing gently as she readied herself for bed. He sat a while with the doctor who had treated all his childhood illnesses.  
Hutch tapped his brow threw his hand in the air in a gesture of incomprehension and despair. “I can’t get it straight in my mind. This has to have been happening for a while – how come neither of them said anything?”  
Larsson sat back in his chair. “Your father came to see me about six months ago. I had some tests done and I told him that I believed that he was developing the disease. Ken, he refused to believe me. I wanted to send him to Williams then; but your father walked out of my office and until you brought him in we had not spoken in all that time. The shrinks call it denial. I think your father was just plain scared.”

Hutch saw him out and sat for a while watching a movie on the TV with the sound turned off so as not to disturb his mom. He couldn’t concentrate and went to bed.

He dreamed of his parents when he was a kid. How they had reassured him when the anesthetic started to take effect before he had his tonsils out; how his dad had tricked him into riding his bike unsupported; how his dad had always seemed to be there solid and reliable when the little boy needed him. And now his dad was going to rely  _on…on… Me? Carol? Mom?_ He tossed and turned and slept fitfully.

  
The next morning, Hutch showered and shaved and was already in the kitchen making breakfast when his mother came downstairs. He told her to sit down and served her with toast and jelly and a pot of tea. He served himself and sat opposite her. He smiled gently; “how are you feeling this morning, mom?”  
A tear ran down her face. “Oh Kenny, I dreamed of your father when we got married; he was so strong and so reliable. Oh dear…….” She started to sob. Hutch put an arm around her and said “I’m here now mom, you can lean on me.”

Around ten, Hutch heard the distinctive growl of a Torino on the prowl. He looked out of the window and saw that Starsky was driving slowly along the street as if he was assessing the situation before going in. Hutch opened the door and went out onto the lawn to signal the “all clear”. Starsky pulled onto the driveway and got out of the car. He left his bag in the back. He was still wearing his shades.  
Starsky came over to his friend and saw the strain on Hutch’s face.  
“That bad, huh?”  
He followed Hutch into the house and stopped when he saw Edith sitting on the couch weeping silently. He sat down beside her and put a strong arm around her shoulders.  
“My mom would never forgive me if I didn’t try to wipe your tears.” He said gently.  
Edith looked at him and gave him a shy smile. “There you see;” he said; “you haven’t forgotten how.”  
He signaled to Hutch to follow him into the kitchen.  
“I’ve been thinking – your mom needs you here and I’d just be in the way. I’ll go back – I think I’ll make a couple of detours, maybe cut south and see Santa Fe.”  
Hutch looked at him. “You won’t be in the way. And what makes you think I don’t want to see Santa Fe too!”  
“I’ll call Dobey and tell him we both need a bit more time.” He headed for the ‘phone and Hutch heard him bantering with their superior. Starsky came back with a grin; “he gave us an extra week.” He turned to Hutch’s mom. “Edith, does the Thanksgiving invitation still stand?”  
She grinned at him. “It certainly does, David.”  
“Great, I make a mean pumpkin pie!”  
That was news to Hutch!

Edith gathered herself together and they drove her into the hospital.  
John was sitting up in bed. His face was less pallid than it had been the day before and he smiled when they came in.  
Edith fussed over him; asking him if he’d eaten and all the other questions she could think of. Starsky winked at Hutch and they left his parents alone.  
“Do you want to stay?”  
“No; I think they need to be alone to talk about what’s going to happen.”  
“And what _is_ going to happen, Hutch? Come on, I’ll buy you a beer and we’ll talk about it.”  
They went into the bar across from the hospital; Starsky ordered a beer for Hutch and a double coke for himself. They found a quiet table and sat down to talk.  
“What do the doctors say?”  
“Parkinson’s disease.” There was a catch in Hutch’s throat  
Starsky sipped his coke and said nothing. He looked at his partner through the dark lenses that hid the sadness in his eyes. He hated to see Hutch so dejected and worried.  
“And…?”  
Hutch explained what the doctors had told him. How his father might become too handicapped for his mother to be able to look after him. How physical degeneration would be followed by mental failure. Hutch looked at his friend; his misery was written across his face in big letters. “Starsky; he’d going to die…and I’m scared of that. I’m more scared of my dad dying that I am of getting killed myself. I can’t imagine…”  
He stopped. Here he was telling a guy who had seen his father killed that he was scared of losing his dad.  
Starsky sensed what was going through Hutch’s mind. “It’s not the same, Hutch.”  
Hutch explained that the best option would be to find a residential home for his father.  
“And what about your mom? How does she feel about staying in that house alone? How long have they lived there?”  
“We moved there when I was a toddler – I guess they’ve been there over thirty years.”  
“Exactly, and now she has to live there alone…”  
Hutch looked at him. “What are you suggesting?”  
“Your mom and Carol get on ok, don’t they?”  
“Mom misses their morning coffee sessions.”  
So; why don’t you find a home for your dad in St Paul? Then your mum can make a clean break from the house. They both make a new start; if you see what I mean. Plus your mom will have Carol nearby – and it is easy enough to get a flight to the Twin Cities if you have to come out here in a hurry. Not for the first time – and certainly not for the last Starsky showed a deep wisdom. You know after my dad was killed some people told mom to move out of the apartment – too many memories and all that. Uncle Joe told her she should wait at least a year so she didn’t make a bad decision. This ain’t the same. Your dad is still there – just not in the house; moving will take her one step towards getting used to his absence.”  
Hutch was in awe of his friend’s natural wisdom. “Let’s go home and call Carol.”

Hutch spoke with his sister for about an hour. When he put down the ‘phone he seemed a little less strained.  
“She says that there is a good facility near where she lives and that they specialize in things like Parkinson’s. She’s going to find out if they can take dad. And here’s the best bit Starsk; they have just made an apartment over the garage so that if mom and dad went to visit they’d be independent!”

They went to collect Edith later that afternoon; he was much calmer now that the he was receiving the right medication and she seemed more relaxed.  
On the way home Starsky stopped the car in front of a restaurant that sold food to go. He nudged Hutch and said “Why don’t you go and buy us something to eat?” He watched Hutch walk to the diner and then turned to Edith who was sitting as comfortably as was possible on the back of the car.   
“I’m sorry about the back of this car – it’s ok for someone we’ve arrested but it’s a bit tough on the innocent.”  
Edith laughed for the first time in twenty four hours. “David, I think I’m going to miss you when you and Ken go home.”  
“Hey my mom calls me once a week - you’re welcome to call whenever you like.”

Thursday morning found them all tripping over one another in the kitchen. Edith was dealing with the turkey and Hutch was set to prepare the vegetables. Starsky was making a pumpkin pie. Hutch watched in amazement as the guy he thought of as a ‘junk food junkie’ made pastry and prepared the pumpkin filling. Starsky chopped the pumpkin with huge knife; wielding it with the same ease that Hutch had seen him use to handle the cut-throat razor. “Hey wait a minute, don’t tell me your mom taught you to do that.”  
“She taught me how to make pastry.” He was quiet for a second as if he was gathering his thoughts. “The filling is Terri’s recipe.”  
Hutch shut up and went back to shucking the corn.

They took a helping of turkey and trimmings and pumpkin pie (only a small serving was left) into the hospital so that John could enjoy a real Thanksgiving meal. The TV was on in his room and the three men settled to watch the game. Edith got out her crochet work and settled down – just like any other Thanksgiving afternoon.

  
****************************************************************

By Saturday, Hutch and Carol had sorted everything out. Carol would arrive on Monday and stay with her mother until the transfer to the home could be arranged; then she’d drive her parents to St. Paul. She and Hutch discussed what to do about the house. The home was going to take all of their father’s retirement plan and Edith would not have much left for herself. They decided that the house should be sold and Carol said she’d contact the realtor as soon as possible after she got there; Hutch was surprised that his mother showed no opposition to the plan; in fact she seemed happy to sell the house.

Monday morning dawned bright and cold. Starsky was loading the bags into the car when the taxi arrived and Carol got out. She walked over to him and said “You must be David.”  
“That’s me!” He smiled and shook her hand shyly. Starsky looked at her – she was a female version of Hutch but not so tall. The same iceberg blue eyes, the same mouth (no mustache!) and the same corn-blond hair. She went to find her brother and mother and Starsky tipped the cabbie and followed with her case. As he came into the house he dropped his arm another inch and clowned that all women pack heavy bags.

Hutch had a quiet word with Carol in the kitchen and then kissed his mother and turned to Starsky. “Come on then; if we’re going home via Santa Fe we’d better hit the road.”  
Starsky went over to Edith and put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and said “You’re beautiful; you should know that.”

  
The Torino pulled away from the house and Carol turned to her mother “I can’t believe that they use that car for their work!”   
“David explained it to me; according to him nobody expects them to drive a car like that so it always comes as a surprise.” They looked at one another and smiled.

  
The journey back to LA was beautiful. The further west they drove the warmer it seemed to get and the desert landscapes of New Mexico cost Starsky another three reels of film.  
They stopped over at Santa Fe and wandered around the craft markets. Starsky bought pots and statues and a beautifully worked silver and turquoise bracelet that he would send to his mom for Hanukkah. He also bought Hutch’s Christmas present – but he managed to keep it a secret.

  
They drove home across the deserts until they finally reached the familiar urban sprawl that they had both made their home.

  
“Funny isn’t it.” Hutch said. “I love Duluth when I’m there but…”  
Starsky started humming and Hutch strained to catch the tune. It was the old Sinatra hit ‘…it’s so nice to go traveling…..but it’s oh so nicer to come home’. I know what you mean – more than a week of my mom and I’m ready to fly back without the airplane!”  
They laughed.

Starsky dropped Hutch off at Venice Place. He could see that his partner was tired – emotionally too. “Get some rest. We don’t have to check in until Saturday. I’ll call you tomorrow.”  
Hutch sketched a wave as he went to his door.

The Torino disappeared around the corner.

********************************************

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have perhaps exaggerated the progress John Hutchinson’s symptoms; but it suits the story line. The lewd behavior used to be a side-effect of a drug called L-Dopa that they used to treat Parkinson’s in the seventies – it made it more ‘fun’ to turn that into one of the symptoms.  
> I’ve often noticed in the show that sometimes Starsky sugars his coffee and sometimes not; that he drinks a lot of water and that he wears his shades indoors at times. It all fits how I feel at the onset of a migraine so I figured ‘why not?’ All his migraine symptoms are mine - and the treatment - although I manage to avoid the morphine shots most of the time.


End file.
